tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-174554912015-07-03T08:18:59.909-07:00Music Theory BlogMichael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.comBlogger309125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-40716816708980814422015-07-01T20:03:00.000-07:002015-07-01T20:03:41.232-07:00PlagiarismOver the last few quarters, I've seen a rather dramatic uptick in plagiarism. (I have a feeling I know what's behind it, and there are a few issues). In an effort to nip things in the bud this quarter, I made this video (feel free to share and use as you see fit): <p><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/AqY_WK57MWU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><p>I've embedded the video in my syllabus on Canvas (our LMS). I played the video for the students on the first day of class, then set up a simple ten-question, true-false quiz in Canvas for the students to take. They can take the quiz as often as they like, and they can use any materials at their disposal, but they must score 10/10. By scoring 10/10, I've told them that any plagiarized work that comes in will be deemed willful and will result in disciplinary action. The burden will be on them to demonstrate to me that they've written the paper. <p>This scared some students (which didn't surprise me, I guess). We spent some time discussing issues with TurnItIn, which I've used on occasion, but don't like because a) it seems like I don't trust them right off the bat--it's a "gotcha" tool; and b) it keeps any papers that are submitted through the site (I understand there might be ways around this). A few students remarked that they didn't see TurnItIn as a "gotcha" at all; rather, they valued the reports that it generated for them. <p>I'll let you know how things go. Your feedback, as always, is welcome.Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-24827214887826326502015-07-01T19:43:00.001-07:002015-07-03T08:18:59.935-07:00What I learned playing Joe B. MauldinI recently finished up a gig that was unusual for me--that's most of the reason I took it in the first place (it didn't pay terribly well...). I played Joe B. Mauldin, bass player for the Crickets in <i>Buddy! The Buddy Holly Story</i><b>. </b>A local community theatre contacted me and said they needed an upright bass player for the show. What I did not realize at the time was that this would be my first foray into acting. I learned a lot on this gig that made me rethink a bit about what I do in the classroom (and as a bassist).<br /><div><br /></div><div>First, the musical parts were really, really bad. I'm used to playing from those terrible handwritten parts that accompany most musicals. These, though, were computer generated and despite that, riddled with errors. Also, for some reason, I only got the first page of about half a dozen songs.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I downloaded a recording of the original London cast performance and learned most of them by ear (I was going to have to memorize about half the tunes anyway). Aural skills helped me twice here: I realized that there were errors (E-B-B-E-E in "Not fade away" instead of E-A-A-E-E; an open repeat with no close repeat in "Chantilly Lace"--different from what was in the score) and I was able to listen to the music and figure it out.</div><div><br /></div><div>To aid in memorizing the music, I drew up charts. Most songs were 12-bar blues in A (which in and of itself simplified things quite a bit) with a "middle 8." Rather than learn note by note by note, I learned the charts, and indicated whether it was a walking or "country" bass line (1-5-1-5) and just improvised. Some of you might say "No big deal--jazz players do this all the time." But I'm a classical player, married to the "notes on the page."</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm also not a rock player. Our Buddy was a good singer and guitarist and had just come off another run of Buddy elsewhere, so he had his parts down. Our drummer was also quite good (he and I were both about 20 years older than the parts we were playing... Suspend your disbelief). Rock musicians communicate very differently from classical musicians, so I had to pick up on that. (It's been years since I've played in a rock band. To their credit, the directors found time for the Crickets to rehearse together as a band before we started worrying about lines and blocking, etc. This proved to be a good strategy.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I've never acted before (save for the time I played third orphan for the left in a fourth-grade production of <i>Nicolas Nickleby) </i>so I was faced with the challenge of learning lines, blocking, etc. I made index cards with my lines and the cue--the line before mine. I figured if I can rely on cues for entrances in orchestral playing, a similar strategy might work in this setting as well. (I didn't have all that many lines. I couldn't figure out if the part was written for an actor who couldn't play bass, a bass player who couldn't act, or both). I marked up my script a lot, and spent plenty of time studying not only my lines, but entrances, movement, and exits.</div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, clothes make the man (or woman). More accurately: <i>costumes</i>&nbsp;make him or her. It wasn't until I donned my purple tuxedo for the Apollo Theatre scene that I really felt like I was a different person. The Apollo costume change was a rough one--I had about a minute to change from a button-down shirt and jeans into a tuxedo before I had to pick up my bass, play "Shout" backstage, and then get ready to enter and act.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OYLsKAlcxuQ/VZan3ArYhbI/AAAAAAAAAXo/EywcnYlJVB8/s1600/IMG_0775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OYLsKAlcxuQ/VZan3ArYhbI/AAAAAAAAAXo/EywcnYlJVB8/s320/IMG_0775.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div>I learned a lot during this show, and have newfound respect for my musical theatre colleagues. Having played in many, many pit orchestras, it was interesting to see and be a part of what happens above ground--it really never stops and is quite a rush. I'm not sure I'm going to act (if you could call it that) again, but I'm grateful for the opportunity.</div><div><br /></div><div>As far as teaching, I had plenty to share with my history of rock and roll course (several of whom attended a performance), and I talked with my theory classes about the ways I which I used the things I was teaching them to help me learn the music efficiently. The gig world is a'changing and this opportunity set into sharp relief the kinds of skills and versatility that we need to teach our students.</div>Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-11212038814311879802015-03-19T11:37:00.001-07:002015-03-19T11:38:03.987-07:00How ya like me now?I wrote this in anticipation of the Legends of Hip Hop show that was going to play at the ShoWare center in Kent, but was canceled due to lack of ticket sales. It was to appear in Seattle Weekly, but (for obvious reasons) got cut. I like the piece a lot, and so here it is: <p>How ya like me now? <p>Harry Allen, Public Enemy's former Minister of Information, likened the history of hip hop to the Big Bang: four interdependent elements--MCing, DJing, graffiti, and breakdancing--split apart and expanded in all directions at the speed of sound. By the early 1990s, these elements had completely dis-integrated and rap music, the most visible and commercially successful of the elements, exhibited a remarkable diversity. The Legends of Hip Hop Tour, which stops at the ShoWare Center on March 14, provides a snapshot of that Golden Age of hip hop. <p>Fly girls Salt-n-Pepa championed female sexuality with songs like "Push It" and unusually frank "Let's Talk About Sex," a song whose message was so timely that it became a public service announcement ("Let's Talk About AIDS") at the height of the AIDS crisis in the US. Monie Love was "born in L-O-N-D-O-N" but "sounds American." She broke in to the US hip hop scene in 1989 with a verse on Queen Latifah's hit "Ladies First," and released a pair of Grammy-nominated albums. Her Sirius XM show, Ladies First, continues to empower a new generation of female hip hop artists. <p>Kool Moe Dee, whose legendary 1981 battle with champion party MC Chief Rocker Busy Bee almost single-handedly changed the way MCs write rhymes, was none the less critical of the new generation of rappers (LL Cool J in particular) for forgetting their roots—a problem that continues to plague mainstream rap. His success with albums like 1987’s How Ya Like Me Now led to him being the first rapper to perform on the Grammys in 1989. <p>Artists like Kwamé and Chubb Rock provided the yin to Moe Dee’s yang. Kwamé’s trademark polka-dot motif provided the backdrop for a string of danceable hits like “The Rhythm.” His recent production work has supported Christina Aguilera and Will Smith, among others. Chubb Rock’s deep baritone and verbal dexterity were showcased on classic hits like “Treat ‘em Right” and “Just the Two of Us.” <p>There was room for fun and social awareness, male and female, domestic and foreign during the Golden Age. By the late 1990s, money--the greatest of gravitational forces--hastened the collapse of the hip hop universe. Despite the fact that rap music has a much larger market share today, the universe has contracted so much that the diversity has been all but squeezed out--much of it forced to the periphery; the black hole of the underground. Mainstream rap is now home to a small cast of stock characters, the gangsta/pimp/ho trinity that hip hop scholar Tricia Rose discusses, with the roles played by an endlessly rotating cast. The Legends of Hip Hop Tour offers us a nostalgic glimpse into the universe's past while offering hope that, given the right conditions, such a diverse roster of artists could one day come into being again. Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-87248853442465398072015-01-06T11:20:00.001-08:002015-01-06T11:21:02.614-08:00Why my class policies are the way they are (or, how to make a living as a freelance musician)I recently played a gig over the holidays for a very large local church. The gig comprised 16 services: two rehearsals and 14 performances. I got the gig because a colleague of mine gave my name along with a few others to a local contractor, and I was the first one to respond to his e-mail. I showed up to the rehearsal to find the music on my stand (read: no time to practice prior to rehearsal); it was pretty easy holiday stuff, very much in the vein of a musical (read: lots of key and tempo changes, dialogue cues, etc.). I had to find a sub for two services (I was nearly triple-booked one weekend--a good problem to have). I made sure to recommend a sub that I knew would make me look good, and I meticulously marked the parts, knowing that he would be stepping in to perform without the benefit of even one rehearsal. <p>After the run of the show, the contractor (who I had only met as a result of this gig) came up and thanked me for my good playing and said that he'd like to call me again: the church has a few big productions every year for which they tend to hire an orchestra. It got me to thinking about what causes a contractor to give a musician a <strong>second</strong> call. The first call is often the result of a resume submission, a referral from a friend, or perhaps an audition (that may or may not have gone the way you wanted it to--I've ended up on sub lists because I placed second or third). It occurred to me that these attributes were the kinds of values I tried to instill in my students and reinforce in my class. Rather than just tell my students this in syllabus-ese, I thought it would be interesting to ask a few folks who have called me a second time (and who are in a position to hire my students even now) to see what <i>they</i> valued in their musicians. Here are two responses, made anonymous. <p><blockquote>My first contact with a musician is their 'first impression.' A quick reply to an invitation, even if it's a 'no,' and timely submission of paperwork tells me they are serious about their career and respectful of employers. Following that, it's important that musicians are organized, conscientious, punctual, prepared and respectful of others. Someone who strives to work with the orchestra as a whole, follows through on their responsibilities and is fully present will be called back before someone who has a great talent but displays a diva attitude, i.e. 'I expect', 'I want', complaining, excuse for everything, etc." --Executive Director, local symphony </blockquote><p><blockquote>In summary, the consideration that will motivate me to hire someone rests on the simple question, will this person make my job easier or more difficult? My goal is no secret, I want to assemble the best orchestra in the world--an orchestra that will show up early, be performance ready at the first rehearsal, and have no need to rehearse. <p>1. Politics have no place in my decision, I am not seeking friends nor hiring them. I may involve friends or make them but that is secondary. [...]<br>4. Attitude will then determine if they get a call back<br>5. Dependability is essential or they have no value to me. If I can't count on them I have to do my job over and won't set myself for that. [...]<br>6. Answering the phone and promptly responding to E-mail is directly related to attitude. If I am left hanging, I will move on and perhaps never return. Again, no response shows no respect, works me hard, leaves me stressed and weakens my position to hire another as I wait. I find this the biggest problem hiring musicians, delayed or no responses. The easiest way a musician can get hired is to answer the phone and the easiest way to not get hired is to not answer. <p> If someone answers the phone, says yes, comes on time and does their job well without an attitude, I will hire them every time I can and try to pay them as much as I can. I will want them happy and to love being there. --Seattle-area contractor </blockquote>I've included these in my Canvas site, front and center, with the hope that students will realize that being on time, being prepared, responding promptly, etc. are not just my values, but the kinds of things that will get them working in music. I think, too, that this kind of knowledge is important in a world where "winning the big audition" is fast becoming a thing of the past. Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-56142874646176053342014-12-19T08:15:00.000-08:002014-12-19T08:15:37.703-08:00Seeing what we want to seeThis post is only remotely music-related, but it's a story I tell over and over again. <p>A few years ago, I went to get a replacement bass wheel: mine had worn through and would no longer hold air after about 10 years of faithful service. (For those who may not know, this is what I'm talking about) <p><img src="http://www.contrabass.co.uk/images/accessories/wheels/Luft-6.jpg"><p>After some Googling, it turns out that the rather unusual tire size is <a href="http://www.topmobility.com/tires-&-tubes-c357.htm">quite common for medical equipment (like mobility scooters).</a> So I went to the local medical supply store to see if I could save the wait/shipping costs/etc. of ordering online. I brought my old wheel with me just in case. <p>I asked the guy behind the counter at the medical supply store if he carried wheels like this--the size, etc. that I needed--and I showed him my wheel. He asked what it was for, and I did my best to explain that it was for transporting a musical instrument, like a big cello. His response, "Well, we do have wheels like that, but they're for medical equipment." I asked if I could see one of them, and he was hesitant, as if he couldn't understand why I was pursuing this further. After a minute, he went into the back and emerged a few minutes later with exactly what I was looking for--the right size and style, and it was a solid wheel, to boot. Perfect! <p>"But we only sell medical equipment." <p>"It's a wheel, and it's the exact thing I need. I'll take it." <p>"But it's not for medical use." <p>"It's a wheel." <p>Finally, he agreed to sell me the wheel. (Mind you, he was never gruff or irritated or anything throughout all of this: just perplexed.) I pulled out my debit card to pay for it... <p>"Do you have Medicare or Medicaid, or some other insurance we can bill?" <p>"Um, no. It's for a musical instrument. Can I just pay for it?" (I may have even brought cash along--something I don't typically do--anticipating some such issue.) <p>"Well, I'm going to have to call our billing department so that they can take your credit card information because we can't do that here." <p>It took three employees (including the person they called) and me about half an hour to resolve this transaction. The reason I like telling the story is because it's a great example of only being able to see (or hear) what you want to hear, what you're trained to hear. Seems to me a bit like a case of the <a href="http://richardwiseman.wordpress.com/2011/12/21/worlds-best-duck-rabbit-illusion/">duck-rabbit illusion</a> in which someone can only see the duck.Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-43169433896295284142014-10-14T10:56:00.001-07:002014-10-14T10:56:53.903-07:00Timed quizzesIt's about that time of year where I start to give my first-year students timed quizzes on fundamentals: key signatures (major and minor), intervals, and triads (all identification--not spelling). The conventional wisdom is that these quizzes build speed and increase recognition. My rationale is that if you're taking ten minutes to identify a key signature, ten minutes to figure out how to spell a minor sixth, and ten minutes to identify a D-major triad, then part writing is going to be a nightmare for you. Kris Shaffer posted <a href="http://krisshaffer.withknown.com/2014/what-do-timed-quizzes-actually-assess">this</a> yesterday morning, which prompted a robust discussion on Twitter among he, I, and a number of other theory professors. <p>After a good deal of back-and-forth, and a discussion with my class, we're going to try the following new and improved version. On Friday, during their quiz sections, I'm going to give them a sheet that contains a whole pile of key signatures and features the following instructions: <p><blockquote>Identify the <strong>major</strong> key associated with each key signature below. <p>This quiz will be timed: your instructor will tell you when to start, and it is up to you to complete the quiz as quickly and accurately as possible. When you have finished, please bring the quiz to your instructor, who will note your finishing time in the space provided. <p>To pass this quiz on the first attempt, you need to achieve 90% accuracy in two minutes or less. If you do not meet this standard, you will have additional attempts to re-take the quiz during future quiz sections. I would ask you to make a note of your improvement goal (time and accuracy) for the next attempt in the space provided, and to indicate steps that you will take between now and then to improve your score. <p>If you do not pass on the first attempt, you will need to improve to 90% accuracy and less than two minutes, or a 50% reduction in both time and errors--whichever is lowest--over subsequent attempts. <p>A score below 30% accuracy and/or longer than 10 minutes will result in the attempt not being counted toward improvement: you'll need to re-take the quiz as though it was a first attempt. <p></blockquote><p>Notes on each paragraph: <ul><li>I'm envisioning about 30 key signatures (I know there are only 15 possible).</li><li>Having the instructor note the time will minimize students self-reporting falsely short times and will give him/her a chance to look at the work.</li><li>Students are forced to reflect on their performance and start thinking ahead to how they might succeed in future attempts.</li><li>The two possibilities here account for students who come in at 89% or 2:10</li><li>This prevents students from "gaming the system" and deliberately doing poorly on the first attempt so that the required improvement is minimal. </ul><p>Thoughts? Comments? Feel free to post below or find me on Twitter (@professor_berry).Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-36450654078868852332014-08-01T11:05:00.002-07:002014-08-01T11:05:30.011-07:00Further to the introspective turn in hip hopI've been thinking more about this over the last few days. Here are a few of my thoughts--questions, mostly:<p><ul><li>Is it a by-product of more educated rappers? There are many more now than in the early days of hip hop. They've read books, had academic dialogues, studied "the great works..."</li><li>Is it a result of the shift from crews (i.e., Wu Tang, Public Enemy, Run D.M.C., Tribe Called Quest, etc., etc.) to individual artists (i.e., DJ Khaled feat. Ludacris, Rick Ross, Snoop Dogg, and T-Pain)? Even the crews associated with record labels don't seem as tight-knit as original hip hop crews.</li><li>Is it representative of a shift in thinking about masculinity? Acknowledgement that being a vulnerable man is OK?</li></ul><p>I'm sure I'll have more thoughts on this later--maybe a good paper. I have to listen to some music and read some books, I think. <p>Comments are always welcome.Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-4301184536463750512014-07-30T10:35:00.001-07:002014-07-30T10:35:44.290-07:00The introspective turn in rapIt seems to me that more and more rappers (mostly "underground," "conscious" rappers) are being lauded for their "introspective" lyrics--music that explores the inner reaches of the psyche, portrays the rapper's psychological torment, blah blah blah. More accurately, I've observed a shift from the outward-directed braggadocio of early hip hop toward a more inwardly-directed approach. <p>Here's a "before" sampling: <p><blockquote>It’s the B-U-S-Y the B-E-E <br>Not talkin’ ‘bout Muhammed Ali<br>I float like a butterfly sting like a bee<br>I’m not the latest I’m the greatest Chief Rocker Busy Bee<br><p>I’m so fly and you know why<br>If you dealin with the Bee you’re not tellin’ a lie<br>Because I rock so well I got clientele<br>And all those sucker MCs can go to hell<br><p>Chief Rocker Busy Bee at the Auto Bonn Ballroom, ca. 1979 </blockquote><p><blockquote>I'm the king of ROCK, there is none HIGHER<br>Sucker MC's should call me SIRE<br>To burn my kingdom, you must use FIRE<br>I won't stop rockin' 'til I retire<br><p>Run D.M.C., "King of Rock," 1985 (NB: King of <i>Rock,</i>, not King of Rap) </blockquote><p><blockquote>No rapper can rap quite like I can<br>I'll take a musclebound man and put his face in the sand<br>Not the last Mafioso I'm a MC cop<br>Make you say "Go LL," and do the wop<br>If you think you can outrhyme me, yeah boy I bet<br>Cause I ain't met a motherfucker who can do that yet<br>Trendsetter I'm better my rhymes are good<br>I got a gold name plate that says I wish you would<br>And when rap begin then I gotta join in and<br>Before my rhyme is over, you know I'ma win<br><p>LL Cool J, "I'm bad," 1987 </blockquote><p> Fast-forward to the 2000s: <p><blockquote>Hiphop started off in a block that I've never been to<br>To counter act a struggle that I've never even been through<br>If I think I understand just because I flow too<br>That means I'm not keeping it true, nope<br><p>Macklemore, "White Privilege," 2005 </blockquote><p><blockquote>My father told me I would grow into a diamond<br>But since I've lost him, I don't know how to find it<br>I feel so unpolished, make me blindin'<br>In a lackluster world where nothing’s shinin'<br><p>Sadistik, "Cubic Zirconia," 2014 </blockquote><p><blockquote><strong>How have you become comfortable talking about depression that openly?</strong><br>Because music is my release, and I notice that once I started the conversation, then other people are like, “Well, Kevin Gates uses music to channel his depression.” Other people may be like, “I use basketball to channel my depression. I channel my depression through running, I channel my depression through yoga, I channel my depression through meditation,” or whatever it may be, you know what I’m saying? That’s what I just advocate that because it’s okay to suffer from a certain ailments. It’s how you treat those ailments, it’s how you deal with those ailments that matters. <p><a href="http://noisey.vice.com/blog/kevin-gates-interview-xxl">Interview with Kevin Gates</a></blockquote>I'm not too sure what, if anything, to make of this. Obviously I've hand-picked bits to support my thesis. I've been listening to quite a lot of local rap these days: perhaps it's just a feature of our local scene. Macklemore and Sadistik are both white, and I think I could make an argument that this introspective turn originated with Eminem. Is it a by-product of the everyone-gets-a-trophy, no-bullying generation growing up? Maybe it's an extreme reaction to the crass materialism of commercial rap?<p><iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/GGXzlRoNtHU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><p>(For an alternative critique, see <a href="http://youtu.be/JxLS-cpgbe0">this</a>). <p>Thoughts?Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-84940414730172474282014-06-21T09:11:00.000-07:002014-06-21T09:12:01.906-07:00Symmetry<i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0362270/">The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou</a></i> is on one of the channels with no commercials this morning, and it's a film I've been meaning to watch again (I last saw it in the theater, I think). My wife is at work and I'm tired of putting things in boxes, so I'm watching it. <p>I'm not a huge Wes Anderson fan, nor do I know much about film. But I do know that Anderson's films are very stylized, and I can pick one out (like a drop-the-needle test) pretty easily--something I can't say about many other directors. These hallmarks of style are what make this Saturday Night Live spoof one of my favorite bits from last season: <p><iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/gSEzGDzZ1dY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><p>(See <a href="http://www.alex-buono.com/how-we-did-it-snl-the-midnight-coterie-of-sinister-intruders/">here</a> for an interesting behind-the-scenes, with more about Anderson's style.) <p>I did a bit of Googling about his "signature," and found the following video: <p><iframe src="//player.vimeo.com/video/89302848" width="500" height="281" frameborder="0" webkitallowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen allowfullscreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://vimeo.com/89302848">Wes Anderson // Centered</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/kogonada">kogonada</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><p>It seems like symmetry is one of his hallmarks. What's interesting to me is that the symmetrical nature of his shots is what sets his style apart from everyone else: most movies are composed mainly of <i>asymmetrical</i> shots. If asymmetry is the norm, then Anderson's symmetry appears unusual to us; thus, asymmetry in <i>his</i> movies comes off as strange. <p>I don't have much more to say about that other than it's an interesting way to think about aesthetic properties and social construction: symmetry is not inherently pleasing; asymmetry is not inherently unpleasant, at least in the domain of film. Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-17121080841471713522014-06-09T09:16:00.002-07:002014-12-31T13:40:30.116-08:00History of Rock and RollOne of the courses in my rotation at UWT is a history of rock and roll course. In the past, I've stuck pretty close to Garofalo's textbook (especially for the early stuff, which I'm least comfortable with). Part of me also likes a "textbook" course because once in a while, it makes my teaching load a bit easier. I toy with the idea of giving them all kinds of cultural studies articles to read, sociology, music analysis/criticism/journalism, etc., but then I think "Do I want to do all that work?" (NB: I do all that work for my rap class and music and crisis. Since I'm adjuncting, I have to find breathing room where I can.) <p>My wife and I visited the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on a recent trip to Cleveland, and as we were watching the year-by-year inductees, I thought, "My students should just pay for airfare to Cleveland and admission to this museum instead of shelling out for my course." But then I hit upon an idea for how to reshape my class in a rather efficient way. <p>I thought it would be interesting to get the students to research the inductees and put together their own history of rock. Inductees also include "Early Influences," "Nonperformers," "Lifetime Achievement," and "Sidemen" awards. I found <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/listing/2690275406478?r=1&cm_mmc=GooglePLA-_-Book_25To44-_-Q000000633-_-2690275406478">this book</a> which is more than I could have ever hoped for. It lists chronologically each class of inductees, and has photos and--most interesting/importantly--excerpts from the induction speeches. <p>Consider the following from the first class, John Fogerty speaking on Buddy Holly: <p><blockquote>I just want to tell you what Buddy Holly meant to me. I was twelve years old, and I was working at a beach resort, and that voice and guitar came up over the PA. I went out and bought "That'll Be the Day," started learning the words. A few months later, I bought the album, and that album set a course in musical history. There was a group pictured on the cover, and it was the first time you saw a group in rock & roll. I thought, "I'm gonna have a group." Over in Liverpool, the same thing was going on with four other guys. They named their group the Beatles because Buddy Holly's group was called the Crickets. In 1963, these four guys chose to hen their great song "I want to Hold Your Hand" with the little syncopation Buddy Holly used in the chorus after the solo. About twenty years later, a kid was writing a song about how it feels to be back [Fogerty's "Centerfield"], and he ended his song with the same riff--came from the same place. (15) </blockquote><p>Think of all of the great topics for exploration that little paragraph offers: <ul><li>Was it really the first album with a group on the cover?</li><li>What are Buddy Holly's influences on the Beatles?</li><li>What are Buddy Holly's influences on John Fogerty?</li><li>Can we analyze "I Want to Hold Your Hand" and compare it to "That'll Be the Day" and/or "Centerfield?"</li><li>Did John Fogerty start a group? Who were they?</li></ul><p>Students can research these questions and use them to make connections with other artists. We could move chronologically or by inductee "class." <p>The down side is that in order to be considered for induction, the artist's first album must have been released at least 25 years prior to the year of consideration. I thought a good final project would then be to ask them to "forecast" future inductees (including producers, sidemen, etc.) and write the speech they would offer at the induction ceremony.Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-13527668381793086962014-04-29T11:04:00.000-07:002014-04-29T11:04:22.556-07:00Extra credit opportunityI sent this to my students today: <blockquote>Those of you that have been with me for the last few quarters know that I never offer extra credit. <p>Until now. <p>I'm sure you've all wasted some time taking the "Buzzfeed" quizzes (<a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/quiz">see here</a>; I have no control over the content on that site: enter at your own risk). I thought it would be neat to create some theory quizzes to help you learn the material and to provide a novel way to review it. <p>Here are some ideas: <ul><li>Which 6/4 chord are you?</li><li>What kind of cadence are you?</li><li>Which part of the phrase model are you?</li><li>Which embellishing tone are you?</li></ul><p>You may work in groups to create a quiz--make sure I get the names of everyone involved. There are two requirements: <p>1) The quiz must be pedagogically sound (you need to be able to learn something by creating/taking it)<br>2) It must be shareable (you can send me a link) <p>If it does not meet the first criteria, I will send it back to you with suggestions for revision. <p>This will be worth one "free" quiz grade. Please do not let it distract you from the actual assignments in the class. The sooner you can get them to me, the better (we do have a midterm coming up...). May 16 is the absolute deadline. <p>This is completely voluntary. Let me know if you have questions. </blockquote>My hope is that this will not only get them thinking about the mechanics of these devices, but also the "personalities" they exhibit, which I hope will inform their implementation in homework. <p>If I get quizzes and permission, I'll share a few here. Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-38203308774260376462014-04-17T10:43:00.000-07:002014-04-17T10:46:55.451-07:00Student bodiesI'd been sitting on this post for a while, looking for some time to write it. <a href="http://www.campusreform.org/?ID=5549">This article</a> spurred me into action, mainly because WWU is (relatively) close to home, and because I went to a diversity workshop last week. <p>I've taught on three different campuses here at the University of Washington: the main campus in Seattle, and both major satellite campuses in Tacoma and Bothell. Despite being part of the same system, the schools are quite different. I've observed these differences in the student bodies and have had to adjust my teaching accordingly. <p>The students that I teach in the music school on the main campus are what many would call "traditional" students. They grew up in this country, were born to parents who were probably themselves college educated and gainfully employed. English is a first language for most of them. Most fall in the 18-22 demographic--fresh out of high school and right to college because a) that's what you're supposed to do and b) because they could afford it (either through their parents or academic success/scholarships/qualifying for grants). Diversity here is also rather "traditional": I have students from a variety of different racial, ethnic, and religious backgrounds. <p>The students I teach in Tacoma are quite different. The average age on this campus is 25. Most of my students have been out in the world working, raising families, and/or serving in the military (we're close to <a href="http://www.lewis-mcchord.army.mil/">Joint Base Lewis McChord</a> and have worked hard to cultivate relationships with them). Many of the students in my upper-division courses have transferred after two years at a community college. The student body is diverse, but in a different way from the main campus: diversity comes in the form not necessarily of racial and/or ethnic diversity (although there's a considerable amount of that), but in terms of life situations. I've had students who are routinely late for class because they're single parents with childcare issues, have gone through divorce as a result of an abusive spouse, and have had challenging work schedules. Such a population requires a much different set of accommodations than the group at the main campus. I tend to have a flexible late policy here (as long as students keep me informed of their situations), more online opportunities (i.e., using the class Twitter hashtag counts toward participation) and the like. <p>I've only taught in the first-year Discovery Core program in Bothell, which is designed to increase new student success. We work closely with the staff--librarians, advisers, writing center, etc.--to create a strong support system for these students. Most of the students in this case are fresh out of high school. Most (close to 60%) are first-generation college students, many are first-generation Americans (or close to it); many come from homes in which the language used is not English. Again, an entirely different set of accommodations needs to be in place here. The support from the staff is tremendous. Teaching students the ins and outs of academia, writing, critical thinking, how to read (one student--I am not kidding--thought the call number of a library book was a phone number you called to request the book) is a big part of this job, in addition to recognizing the (mostly inaccurate) preconceptions about college that many of them bring. These inaccurate preconceptions are often the result of not having anyone close to them that has participated in the college experience: their ideas of college come largely from the media. <p>The moral of the story: it's easy to think that college students are all the same. It's also easy to think that diversity is a politically correct way of talking about having a "less white" campus. That's part of it. If college is supposed to be accessible to everyone, we as faculty members need to do a better job of identifying with the populations we intend to serve (another for instance: in Tacoma, we are surrounded by a large number of Native American communities, and we recruit their students to attend school here, but we have only one Native person on the faculty, and they were just hired this year). Students (and faculty) benefit not only from diverse classmates, but from a diverse faculty as well. Both groups need to be aware of the widening definition of what constitutes diversity and strive to create appropriate and meaningful learning opportunities for all.Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-15973334586631585482014-04-11T09:43:00.002-07:002014-04-11T11:15:32.650-07:00Form and content; Brahms and TchaikovskySorry I've been off the blog radar for a while: I had a busy couple of quarters culminating in three conference presentations on wildly different topics within the span of six weeks. But I've thought about a bunch of stuff and hope to update a bit more regularly here. First thing on my mind: I just played Tchaikovsky's sixth symphony with the Federal Way Symphony (one of the groups I play with regularly around here), and I heard the Seattle Symphony perform at the end of March as part of the <a href="http://blog.seattlesymphony.org/?p=5816">Creative Diaspora</a> conference that they sponsored. (Note to everyone: Orchestras sponsoring conferences is a wonderful idea. This was one of the most enjoyable conferences I ever attended.) I'm also playing Brahms's second symphony with the Olympia Symphony at the end of April. I like both of these works very much, but for very different reasons. Brahms composed his symphony in 1877; Tchaikovsky in 1893, so the works aren't too far apart chronologically (all things considered). It was interesting to have the opportunity to juxtapose them like this. A few observations, in no particular order: <ul><li>Both are really fun to play, as a bass player, at least. A few woodshed-worthy licks, loud bits, quiet bits, etc.</li><li>The Brahms appeals to me on an intellectual level; the Tchaikovsky on an emotional level</li><li>Technically (mostly in terms of formal procedures) the Tchaikovsky is a bit of a mess. On the other hand, I can't think of many pieces that are more tightly constructed than Brahms 2.</li><li>Both composers play with rhythm (particularly the sense of the downbeat) in interesting ways in these symphonies</li><li>As music theorists, we seem to pay much more attention to Brahms than we do to Tchaikovsky.</li><li>The Tchaikovsky has a "hidden program;" Brahms' symphony is absolute music. <li>The Tchaikovsky starts and ends with the double basses (advantage: Tchaikovsky). </ul> A few more specific thoughts on the Tchaikovsky:<p>I remember my undergraduate music history teacher saying that Tchaikovsky was very conscious of the fact that "his seams showed." Tchaikovsky couldn't write a transition to save his life, in my opinion: his music stops and then starts again with something new. Brahms's symphony, on the other hand, could be seen as one big transition (I think of it in terms of Schoenberg's "developing variation"; I'm not judging either of them on this basis). It almost seems that Tchaikovsky went out of his way in the sixth symphony to foreground these seams. Consider the transition from the slow introduction to the allegro: <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7rS6-3ZwiDQ/U0gXnop5obI/AAAAAAAAARY/fAE56EVs0Sg/s1600/untitled.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7rS6-3ZwiDQ/U0gXnop5obI/AAAAAAAAARY/fAE56EVs0Sg/s320/untitled.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y-pg0s7lCHM/U0gXo6ak0qI/AAAAAAAAARg/UjDSvio1VO8/s1600/untitled2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y-pg0s7lCHM/U0gXo6ak0qI/AAAAAAAAARg/UjDSvio1VO8/s320/untitled2.JPG" /></a></div><p>There is a lot of space written into this transition: a fermata over the rest after the V6 chord, and three full beats of rest before the theme starts up. The entire first movement is very much a patchwork, where things come to a stop, there's a pause, and then we start up again with something new. <p>The melodic material in the second movement is unusually simple: few people can make scales sound as good as Tchaikovsky. The theme with an ascending scale from mi to do, coming to rest on sol, then another ascending scale from sol to mi, coming to rest on re. The melody then features two descending scale fragments. The second theme (in the B section) consists largely of a B minor scale, articulated from sol to sol. The pedal D in the bass throughout this section does a wonderful job of creating a hazy sense of D major-meets-B minor. <p>The third movement is so loud, raucous, and joyful. I don't think I've played it or heard it performed where the audience didn't wildly applaud after it. (I'm fine with that.) <p>The joyous third movement makes the fourth movement sound so much more bleak: they're perfect foils. This movement too is quite a pastiche with lots of silences, and of course it fades away into nothingness. <p>Then there's the matter of the "hidden program," which most people have come to accept as Tchaikovsky's grappling with his homosexual identity in Russia's oppressive political environment and ultimately killing himself. Marina Ritzarev has <a href="http://www.ashgate.com/isbn/9781472424136">a new book coming out</a> that challenges this interpretation. In her pre-concert lecture at the Creative Diaspora conference, she suggested that the work might be a setting of the Passion of Christ, and made some rather compelling arguments. <p>All of this boils down to the following assertion that has been rolling around in my brain for the last few weeks: in the case of Tchaikovsky's symphony, the form is subservient to the content. In the Brahms, the form <i>is</i> the content. Music theorists (and musicologists, in a different way, I think) have an easier time talking about form, and can point to all of the "flaws" or "deformations" exhibited by the Tchaikovsky: gaps between sections, simplistic melodies, etc. We have a much harder time talking about content (why is Tchaikovsky's piece so affecting?). <p>What say you? Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-9462458787709512722013-12-27T13:18:00.000-08:002013-12-27T13:51:49.436-08:00Music and crisis 2.0Last quarter I retooled my hip-hop class; this quarter I'm overhauling the music and crisis class. I get bored teaching the same thing over and over again. When I design a course, I tend to start with a handful of big questions that I want to answer. After teaching the course five or six times, the questions get answered (to the extent they can be) and new questions arise. Of course, I make minor tweaks along the way. Once I have the new questions in a good place, I build a new course around them. <a href="http://ttutheory.blogspot.com/2010/07/music-and-crisis-addendum.html?q=music+and+crisis">Here are the questions</a> that shaped the first incarnation of the course (another early post <a href="http://ttutheory.blogspot.com/2010/07/music-and-crisis.html?q=music+and+crisis">here</a>) I really like the "throw-it-to-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks" approach to teaching, and I think the students enjoy being part of the discovery process (I'll even ask them, "is this song/article/whatever worth discussing in a future semester?") <p>I don't exactly have new questions at this point: more like a new blob of potentially interconnected things. Among them: physical vs. socially constructed body; trauma and disability (and the body); organic metaphors (i.e., the body, wound) for cities; commercialization, commodification and grief. <p>I'm sticking with many of the same crises at this point: 9/11, the origins of hip hop, and Hurricane Katrina--mainly because I have a book proposal under consideration and I want what we cover to relate directly to the crises covered in the (proposed) book. <p>Here's the reading list I've concocted so far: <p>Attali, Jacques. 1985. Noise: The political economy of music. Trans. Brian Massumi. Minneapolis: U. Minnesota Press. <p>Berger, James. 2004. “Trauma without disability, disability without trauma: A disciplinary divide.” JAC [Journal of Advanced Composition]. Special issue, part 2: Trauma and rhetoric. 24/3: 563-582. <p>Butler, Judith. 2004. Precarious life: The powers of mourning and violence. New York: Verso. <p>Caro, Robert. 1975. The power broker: Robert Moses and the fall of New York. New York: Vintage. <p>Chang, Jeff. 2005. Can’t stop, won’t stop. New York: Picador. <p>Forman, Murray. 2002. “Soundtrack to a crisis: Music, context, discourse.” Television & new media 3/2: 191-204. <p>Fox, Aaron. 1992. “The jukebox of history: Narratives of loss and desire in the discourse of country music.” Popular music 11/1: 53-72. <p>Fullilove, Mindy Thompson. 2004. Root shock: How tearing up city neighborhoods hurts America and what we can do about it. New York: One World. <p>Harvey, David. 2003. “The city as body politic.” In Wounded cities: Destruction and reconstruction in a globalized world. Ed. Jane Schneider and Ida Susser. New York: Berg. <p>Hurley, Molly, and James Trimarco. 2004. “Morality and merchandise: Vendors, visitors and police at New York City’s Ground Zero.” Critique of anthropology 24/1: 51-78. <p>Klein, Naomi. 2008. The shock doctrine: The rise of disaster capitalism. New York: Metropolitan. <p>Krims, Adam. 2007. Music and urban geography. New York: Routledge. <p>Ritter, Jonathan, and J. Martin Daughtry. 2007. Music in the post-9/11 world. New York: Routledge. <p>Rose, Chris. 2007. 1 Dead in Attic. New York: Simon and Shuster. <p>Rosen, Gerald M., ed. 2004. Posttraumatic stress disorder: Issues and controversies. New York: John Wiley and Sons. <p>Salvaggio, Ruth. 2008. “Forgetting New Orleans.” Southern literary journal. 40/2: 305-16. <p>Siebers, Tobin. 2001. “Disability in theory: From social constructionism to the new realism of the body.” American literary history. 13/4: 737-754. <p>Straus, Joseph N. 2011. Extraordinary measures: Disability in music. New York: Cambridge U. Press. <p>Swenson, John. 2011. New Atlantis. New York: Oxford U. Press. <p>Watts, Lewis, and Eric Porter. 2013. New Orleans suite: Music and culture in transition. Berkeley and Los Angeles: U. California Press. Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-47742763594992145712013-11-06T17:41:00.000-08:002013-11-06T17:41:02.230-08:00Kronos Quartet in SeattleHere's a short piece I wrote for Seattle Weekly that I like a lot: Kronos Quartet November 16, 2013 @ Neptune Theatre No chamber ensemble in recent memory has done more to advance the cause of contemporary art music than the Kronos Quartet. The group, founded in Seattle by violinist David Harrington, played their first concert here forty years ago this month. Since then, they have collaborated not only with the most prominent contemporary composers—people like Phillip Glass, Steve Reich, and John Adams—but also with a number of popular musicians such as Amon Tobin, Sigur Rós, and most recently, Bryce Dessner. Dessner, guitarist for The National, supplied four compositions for the quartet’s most recent album, Aheym (“homeward,” in Yiddish). To paraphrase my colleague Andrew Gospe, the compositions are not boring: Dessner has respectable compositional chops. Kronos’s performance at the Neptune will feature Dessner’s Tenebre as well as a performance of Predator Songstress: Warrior with the Degenerate Art Ensemble. Other works on the program highlight the group’s diverse and extensive repertoire, from Wagner to Penderecki. Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-59908489852472533312013-10-20T17:21:00.002-07:002013-10-20T17:22:53.283-07:00Introductory music theory videosI mentioned before that I was <a href="http://ttutheory.blogspot.com/2013/05/flipping-classroom.html">experimenting with the "flipped classroom."</a> To that end, I've put together a series of video lectures on basic theory topics, starting with clefs and the staff. The embedded video below links to the whole playlist. I'll add more as I'm able. <iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/r0M84_KVWX4?list=PLapcgKlZ9NOlRzu4poEUBmKTi359A92UP" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-49857098377145853202013-09-17T22:04:00.001-07:002013-09-17T22:04:44.877-07:00More on performance and the mindIn a <a href="http://ttutheory.blogspot.com/2013/08/mind-body-entrainment-transcendence.html">previous post</a> I relayed some thoughts about the relationship between the mind and body, particularly in cases of fatigue (the athletes having enough mental energy to cross the line, only to collapse seconds afterward). A recent article in <a href="http://www.runnersworld.com/race-training/how-to-build-mental-muscle?page=single">Runner's World</a> offered some interesting new ways of thinking about the topic. <p>In short, mental exhaustion and the cues that it sends your body might have a stronger influence on perceived <i>physical</i> exhaustion than previously thought. The author references the work of Samuele Marcora on the relationship between mental fatigue and physical fatigue. I read the article in RW with interest, and sought the <a href="http://www.jappl.org/content/106/3/857.full">original publications that detail Marcora's research.</a><p>Marcora, along with Walter Staiano, and Victoria Manning studied two groups of cyclists. The test group was asked (essentially) to play a very tedious video game (RW suggests <a href="http://www.wellcomecollection.org/tiredness/index.html">this one</a>, and suggests doing it for 30 minutes). The control group watched a movie about trains. The findings are striking: mental fatigue raises the rate of perceived exertion (<a href="http://www.topendsports.com/testing/rpe.htm">RPE</a>) and the average heart rate and shortens the time to exhaustion. Put another way, <b>mental fatigue can have as strong an effect on physical performance as actual physical fatigue</b>. <p>What does this have to do with music, you're probably wondering. I suspect that a) musicians might make good endurance athletes because of the mental discipline that practicing an instrument conveys. We spend hours a day in a practice room, repeating the same passages over and over again. If that doesn't result in mental fatigue, I don't know what does. This ability to withstand mental fatigue under solitary conditions undoubtedly would translate to distance running or cycling (or whatever else). b) the idea of inducing mental fatigue prior to a practice session and training the mind (and body) to work through that fatigue could be an essential component of audition and competition preparation. There are all kinds of books written on the mental aspects of musical performance (I'm thinking of Kenny Werner's<a href="http://kennywerner.com/effortless-mastery">Effortless Mastery</a> and Barry Green's<a href="http://www.innergameofmusic.com/">The Inner Game of Music</a>; however, these books are written from a more general psychological--almost spiritual--perspective. Marcora's experiments suggest laboratory-tested methods of inducing and coping with fatigue. <p>For as much time as we spend training our bodies to shift accurately, to play without injury, and so on, perhaps mental training of the sort suggested by Marcora and his colleagues should become a part of the practicing musicians' toolkit. Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-87734966393538339682013-09-06T09:14:00.001-07:002013-09-06T09:14:22.467-07:00Writing about (popular) musicMy "job" at <i>Seattle Weekly</i> is to write short blurbs previewing upcoming concerts. There are occasional CD reviews and features/interviews, but for the most part, I get 50-150 words to convince someone that they need to go see something. <p>So, what do I write? <p>My thought here (as is the case in most of my academic writing and teaching) is that I want someone who may not know the band to be able to hear the music and decide based on that. For instance, here's a groovy band from Portland called <a href="http://www.thesatinchaps.com">The Satin Chaps:</a><p><iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/_1IjgaksIOQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><p>Here's what I wrote about them (pre-editorial intervention): <br><blockquote>Portland’s The Satin Chaps channel the earliest days of rock in the Northwest: the Wailers and the Ventures leave a clear mark on their predominately instrumental grooves. Mix in a bit of Booker T and the MGs and Herb Alpert and the result is fun, danceable music. With The Moonspinners. Vito’s, 927 Ninth Ave., 397-4053. Vitosseattle.com. 9pm. </blockquote><p>I would read that and be able to piece together what they might sound like, that they're from Portland, and that they're fun to dance to (as the video suggests). I didn't mention that Eric Hedford used to be the bassist for the Dandy Warhols, nor did I mention that they have a thing for matching ascots. To me, those don't really have anything to do with the <i>music</i>. <p>I've noticed that people in this world have a different definition of genre than classical musicians do. Genre here is more akin to style, I think: Afro-pop, shoegaze, extratone speedcore, etc. Genre in classical music is more akin to form: symphony, art song, etc. The promo blurbs say things like "This group from Everett brings their gritty blend of surf rock, shoegaze, and Norwegian black metal to town. Don't worry: the catchy hooks are still there." People in the pop music world (and particularly in the indie music world) seem to have an unusual obsession with genre: I once had a (very circular) conversation with a girl who really wanted to create a new genre of music. My argument was that it would be practically impossible, since all genres are (as my hypothetical review a few sentences ago suggests) are basically hybrids of those that came before. My issue with this conception of genre is that genres are either too broad (i.e., "hip-hop," "country") or too narrow (fans of EDM are good for this) to be useful. <p>I'll go again to an analogy with food. Menus seem to have a few different strategies for identifying the food being served. First, (from <a href="http://www.local360.org">Local 360</a>), you can order a Smoked Pork Shank with warm potato salad, and mustard jus. I know what all of those things are, and I can imagine what will show up on the plate in front of me in 20 minutes or so. In contrast, from <a href="http://wd-50.com/menus/#wdfromthevault">WD-50</a> (one of the most amazing meals I've ever had, by the way), you can order Parsnip cake, coconut cream cheese, carrot, walnut. I don't have a clue what that will be like: I've been given a list of rather disparate ingredients, and my job is to somehow assemble them in my head into something that will soon go into my belly. I find it difficult not only to imagine how they will combine in principle, but also how that combination might <i>taste</i>. Here's where expertise comes in: someone who is an experienced chef will likely have a better "imagination" than I will. There are so-called "fusion" restaurants, which combine ingredients and/or techniques from different regions: I had a moo-shu burrito at a Asian/Mexican fusion place in New York one time--this seems to be analogous to "genre" identification ("it's like punk meets hip-hop"). I've been to other restaurants that are concerned not only with the ingredients, but also <a href="http://www.hulu.com/watch/208808">where they come from</a>. <p> So, if I were to write about music in the same way people write about food, I could talk about the ingredients by themselves, the ways in which the ingredients combine, the places from which the ingredients came, or the broad philosophy of the way things are combined. The ingredients, I suppose, could comprise genres ("a gritty blend of surf rock, shoegaze, and Norwegian black metal") or representative other bands ("the Wailers and the Ventures mixed with Booker T and Herb Alpert"). <p>Now, the trick is to do any of this in a compelling way in 50 words...Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-70867177019780343482013-09-06T08:25:00.001-07:002013-09-06T09:14:22.465-07:00Public intellectualsI mentioned in my last post that I'm writing for the <i>Seattle Weekly</i>. Again, it's a little thing, but hopefully a stepping stone toward more opportunities to write for a broader audience down the road. (Of course, this blog is directed at a broader audience, for the most part. I just don't really get paid for it, and I don't think very many people read it.) <p>The question that comes to mind is what do I, the academic, have to contribute to the public's understanding of the local music scene? I can talk about set theory and Schenker with the best of them, but that doesn't help John and Sue decide what to do with their Friday night. <p>While all of this is happening, two items crossed my desk. One, from <i>CHE</i> titled <a href="http://chronicle.com/article/The-New-Economy-of-Letters/141291/">"The New Economy of Letters"</a>. Jill Lepore, the author, points out that "more scholars are writing more words for less money than ever before." She writes that widespread disappearance of bookstores and tightening belts at university presses are contributing to the disappearance. <p>There have been plenty of laments of the decline in public intellectuals; this is not new. I have quite a few friends in academia who, I think, would love to be considered public intellectuals, to share their research with the broader public. I also have plenty of colleagues who are more than happy to live in their ivory tower and do things that probably a dozen people will a) read and b) understand. Lepore argues that "This set of arrangements has produced a great, heaping mountain of exquisite knowledge surrounded by a vast moat of dreadful prose." So it sounds like writing may be (a big) part of the problem. <p>Enter <a href="http://wwnorton.tumblr.com/post/32954793512/nine-tips-for-academics-writing-for-a-general-audience">this helpful tip sheet,</a> in which Alane Salierno Mason, an editor at W.W. Norton, offers some advice on converting academic-ese into something that somebody a) can understand and b) <i>might want to</i> read. My summary (which may take some liberties) is that academics care about and, thus, write about ideas. Everyday folks care about people, and want to read about people. <p>There's another part of this "where are the public intellectuals?"/"why won't anybody read my writing?" that is being overlooked, and that is the growing disdain toward experts in general. The internet and mobile technologies have given just about everyone instantaneous access to vast amounts of knowledge. For example, I learned all about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shoegazing">"shoegaze" music</a> today, and the first resource that popped up when I Googled it was Wikipedia: a giant clearinghouse of "knowledge" "curated" by God-knows-who. I've <a href="http://ttutheory.blogspot.com/2011/02/oh-irony.html">written about this previously here</a>, if you're interested. In that earlier post (and my subsequent thinking about the topic), the goal then becomes teaching people to be critical thinkers. That doesn't necessarily solve <i>this</i> problem, though: put another way, I don't see anyone buying a book or magazine with the title "How to critically evaluate stuff on the internet" or "Go to a library" by A. Public Intellectual. <p>I'll stop there, I think.Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-70424516679101412112013-09-03T09:06:00.000-07:002013-09-03T09:06:36.050-07:00Listening locallyI've started writing a bit for <a href="http://www.seattleweekly.com">Seattle Weekly</a>, which is--you guessed it--a weekly newspaper in Seattle. I live in Tacoma, which is about 40 minutes south of Seattle, but a) I spend a good bit of time in Seattle, b) I know a thing or two about writing and music, and c) sometimes cool stuff happens in Tacoma that the folks up north should know about. <p>So I sent some samples and a CV a few months ago to some of the local papers, and Seattle Weekly took me up on it (<a href="http://www.seattleweekly.com/home/948567-129/snoop-band-adv-cali-giraffes-lion">here's my first blurb</a>--scroll down). This is cool: unlike academia, people are going to read what I write, and I'll get paid for it. The editor liked my Snoop piece, and has included me in the weekly asks: she sends out a list of everything that's going on, and we pitch story ideas to her. I got the first listing of probably around 200 events and was quite shocked. I had heard of Snoop Lion (Dogg); about 199 of the artists that she sent out for this week were a mystery to me. Granted, I've only been in the Pacific NW for about two years now, but still... I wondered what I had gotten myself into. What could I, the ivory tower academic with a dissertation on non-tonal pitch-class space, have to say about Cee Lo Green playing at the Puyallup Fair?* <p>Later that week, we met up with some friends in Seattle (I told you I go there often) at a restaurant called <a href="http://local360.org/">Local 360</a>. The restaurant's name comes from the fact that all of their ingredients are sourced within a 360-mile radius of the restaurant. Here's what might be considered their "mission statement" from the front page of their website: <blockquote>We believe in real food, grown and harvested by the good folks in our community who take care of their land for future generations. We believe in whole, natural flavors. We believe in sustainability, not as an abstract concept, but as a conscious daily choice. We believe in hands; the hands of our local farmers, products made by hand, and the goodwill fostered by such hand-in-hand relationships. </blockquote>I began to ponder the parallels between eating locally and listening locally. Taking Local 360's stance as emblematic of many locavores' beliefs, how does this translate to music? I've spent a fair amount of time on the blog and in class <a href="http://ttutheory.blogspot.com/2013/03/hip-hop-vs-country.html">railing against "Big Music"</a>. And I've taught a "Music in Tacoma" class a few times at UWT: physically and philosophically, the campus really seems to be a <i>part</i> of the downtown, and vice versa (it certainly was one of the main catalysts for the revitalization of downtown about 20 years ago). In the past, I've taken a top-down approach ("here's everything that's wrong with Big Music); perhaps a change in outlook is warranted ("here's all the good stuff happening right here, <i>and why you should care about it</i>"). That last bit--the "why you should care about it"--might be the lynchpin; it's what I, as a music academic, can bring to the table. <p>More on this later, as I continue to think through some of these things. (There's an amateur/professional thread working its way through my head, as well as a "I'm a classical musician" thread as well...) <p>*To be clear, I do not aspire to be the next Chuck Klosterman or Lester Bangs, or to quit my "day job" and spend the next year following some band around. If I'm lucky, I might get to write 500 words on a band every two months, and I'm OK with that.Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-91386288888964544482013-08-29T14:28:00.001-07:002013-08-29T14:30:21.172-07:00Mind, body, entrainment, transcendenceOn the heels of watching lots of cycling the last few weeks, and starting to train for another marathon, and ramping up my practice regimen, I once again ponder the relationship between sport and music. Please watch the following videos: <p>In the first two videos, the cyclists are riding up mountains basically at their physiological limits. They cross the finish line and promptly collapse: <p>Stage 2 of the 2013 Amgen Tour of California (Skip ahead to 4:30 or so to see what I'm talking about):<br><iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/JP1fGEpKrL0?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br><p>Stage 5 of the 2013 USA Pro Cycling Challenge (Watch from 1:00-1:30 or so):<br><iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/f8zkgytVcx4?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br><p>It seems to me that their minds are pushing their bodies past their limit. The finish line is some sort of psychological trigger that "snaps them back" into reality: once they know they can stop, they do. <p>This next clip is of a different sort: it's from the 1982 Ironman in Hawaii. Julie Moss is determined to make it across the finishing line:<br><iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/_Ef5AvYKOo8?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br>Here, her body shuts down before her mind; however, she manages to will herself to the finishing line despite the apparent shutdown of all of her systems. <p>So I've been thinking about the relationship between the body and the mind lately, as exemplified through these excerpts. There's obviously a strong connection between the body and the <i>brain</i>. Looking at Moss, clearly her body is out of fuel: she can barely stand, barely walk, and she crawls over the finish line. If her body was so depleted of fuel, her brain must have been also. How is it, then, that she was able to maintain motivation to cross the finish line? Is there some evolutionary biological survival strategy at play here, an adaptation of something that our hunting and gathering ancestors needed to survive? In these cases, it looks like the mind was able to overpower the body. <p>On the other hand, I think there are times when the body can trump the mind. Consider: <br><iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/2Q0WGQbJbso?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br>(Disclaimer: I don't much care for this guy's playing, but the fact that this is a Guiness Book of World Records attempt/spectacle/game show/whatever plays into my point.) <p>Gyorgy Cziffra playing Liszt (start around 5:10):<br><iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/fnChH3cFPnY?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><p>Feats of dexterity like this are impossible to accomplish if you think about every note, every gesture: they must become internalized, automatic. There's something, too, about listening to these performances in an "embodied" kind of way that I find thrilling: I know how fast my fingers can move, and I've heard other people who can play fast, etc., but <i>every time</i> I hear the Cziffra recording, I wait for him to go off the rails at around the 6:00 mark. <p>I would also argue that we watch sports in an embodied fashion as well. As a rather skilled cyclist and runner myself (I'm far from a pro--don't get me wrong), I feel my legs tighten when I watch the final sprint of a stage race--my body is recreating what it's like to accelerate on a bike, even though I'm on my couch. <p>In my running, I've been practicing a kind of irregular rhythmic breathing: I breathe in for four steps and out for one. If I'm going fast, it might be a 3:2 ratio; if I'm going slowly, it might be 5:4. One very pragmatic goal of this approach is that it helps to eliminate side stitches by alternating which foot hits the ground as you begin to inhale. It also helps even out the stride, forcing you to "accent" alternating feet at the beginning of each 4:3. I've also found, though, that this <i>entrainment</i> moves me toward a more meditative state as I run. I never run with music (save for the occasional very long run; I haven't run with music in about two years). Music offers another method of entrainment. None of this is news to anyone who practices yoga, meditation, or something similar. <p>I don't really have a grand conclusion here, just some questions:<br><ol><li>What can moments such as those documented on the videos above tell us about the relationship between the mind/brain and body, particularly in the pursuit of extreme physical feats?</li><li>How does something like entrainment and/or meditation play into this?</li></ol>Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-69735350833206141482013-08-28T17:34:00.002-07:002013-08-28T17:34:45.843-07:00Artur Schnabel on American OrchestrasVOICE: <i>Mr. Schnabel, while we are on social questions, do you feel that there is a difference in the quality of music and the freedom of musical production in countries where there is no question of money to support symphony orchestras, plays, theatres--that sort of thing--and in America, where it is up to the people, by donations or tickets? Do you feel it makes a difference in the quality of musical production?</i><br />MR. SCHNABEL: No. I don't think it makes much of a difference whether the support of public artistic activities comes from the state or from private sources. Orchestra organizations here in U.S.A. seem rather overstocked with boards and committees and campaigns--junior committees and ladies' committees and board of directors and trustees--and every year for months the same bustling promotion paraphernalia, meetings, luncheons, banquets, all stops of the publicity organs employed--is it really necessary? Or chiefly tradition, or fun, or time-killing, or business stimulation as such? Is there really not enough stability and confidence to guarantee for a long stretch the adequate, customary attendance to well-tested and always enjoyed associations? There is always a danger that the musical director of such setablishments becomes distracted by so much agitation--and pessimism.<br />Yet America has the best orchestras in the world. We are of course lucky that an American orchestra means an international one, composed of the heirs of all European traditions. We have the greatest selection of talent.<br /><br />--<i>My Life and Music</i> (1945), New York, Dover. 161.Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-20937200238093594582013-07-16T14:21:00.000-07:002013-07-16T14:21:40.916-07:00My Trayvon reading and listening listsThe students in my rap class asked today if we could devote some time to discussing the Trayvon case. While it's not a "rap music" issue per se, many of the course themes were played out during the trial. Here is the list of readings and songs that I assembled for them. We will discuss the materials on Thursday. <br /><br />Below are links to a variety of news article and video clips. Read/watch as many as you are inclined to.<br /> <ul><li><a class="external" href="http://www.hiphopdx.com/index/news/id.24670/title.immortal-technique-addresses-race-s-role-in-the-zimmerman-trial" target="_blank"><span><span>Immortal Techniuqe addresses race's role in the Zimmerman trial</span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a></li><li><a class="inline_disabled external" href="http://youtu.be/0iBBNSLbOmY" target="_blank"><span><span>Rachel Jeantel caught in lies and confusing Ebonics&nbsp; </span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a><span class="inline_disabled ">(if you watch this, look at the comments and also read this: </span><a class="external" href="http://ideas.time.com/2013/06/28/rachel-jeantel-explained-linguistically/" target="_blank"><span><span>Rachel Jeantel explained linguistically)</span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a></li><li><a class="external" href="http://hiphopandpolitics.wordpress.com/2013/07/13/why-is-there-so-much-hype-about-riots-after-this-george-zimmerman-verdict/" target="_blank"><span><span>Davey D on rioting after the verdict</span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a></li><li>Charles Blow, <a class="external" href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/07/16/opinion/the-whole-system-failed.html" target="_blank"><span><span>"The whole system failed Trayvon Martin"</span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a> (from the <em>New York Times</em>)</li><li>Robin D.G. Kelley, <a class="external" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/robin-d-g-kelley/nra-stand-your-ground-trayvon-martin_b_3599843.html" target="_blank"><span><span>"The U.S. v. Trayvon Martin: How the system worked"</span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a> (via <em>Huffington Post</em>)</li><li><a class="external" href="http://tv.msnbc.com/2013/07/15/everything-will-be-ok-i-love-you-parenting-after-trayvon/" target="_blank"><span><span>Melissa Harris-Perry on parenting after the verdict</span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a> (you should also watch the video, linked to earlier in the article).</li><li><a class="external" href="http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/mon-july-15-2013/acquitted-development?xrs=share_copy" target="_blank"><span><span><em>The Daily Show</em></span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a> summarizes everything neatly...</li></ul>Here are a few songs inspired by the Trayvon Martin case. I'm not sure that lyrics are available for some of them.<br /> <ul><li><a class="inline_disabled external" href="http://youtu.be/jYxV2qE8Qr8" target="_blank"><span><span>Reef the Lost Cauze, "The Prey" (for Trayvon and my son)</span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a></li><li><a class="inline_disabled external" href="http://youtu.be/YKaJoEyYXyI" target="_blank"><span><span>Jasiri X, "Trayvon"&nbsp; </span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a><a class="external" href="http://rapgenius.com/Jasiri-x-trayvon-lyrics" target="_blank"><span><span><span class="inline_disabled ">(lyrics here)</span></span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a></li><li><a class="inline_disabled external" href="http://youtu.be/ooWNZrNW_y0" target="_blank"><span><span>Mistah F.A.B., "God doesn't love me"</span></span><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a></li><li><a class="inline_disabled external" href="http://youtu.be/WcmUAG210oM" target="_blank"><span><span>Dead Prez, "Made you die"</span></span></a><a class="inline_disabled external" href="http://youtu.be/WcmUAG210oM" target="_blank"><span class="ui-icon ui-icon-extlink ui-icon-inline" title="Links to an external site."></span></a></li></ul>Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-91761123130967504392013-07-02T14:04:00.000-07:002013-07-02T14:06:26.668-07:00The "rules" of twelve-tone composition (or, don't trust everything you see on teh interwebz)This video has been making the social media rounds lately: <iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/4niz8TfY794" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe> While the Laser Bat is pretty funny, the <a href="http://www.salon.com/topic/twelve_tones/">rest of the video is a mess</a>. It perpetuates many common myths associated with serialism and introduces some new ones. If you have time and inclination, read Joseph Straus's <a href="http://www.cambridge.org/us/academic/subjects/music/twentieth-century-and-contemporary-music/twelve-tone-music-america">Twelve-tone music in America.</a> It's like, a whole <i>book</i> about this stuff (remember books?). <p>First--simply put--there are no rules for serial composition. "You can even switch back and forth between two adjacent notes in the row. You just can't go back the note two pitches earlier" (0:49). In all of my studies of serial music, I have never found anything that argues this point. Straus refers to this as the "myth of serial purity" and the "myth of non-repetition" (180-184). Straus quotes Schoenberg, the "inventor" of twelve-tone technique (another myth): <blockquote>The theorists always fall into the error of believing their theories to be rules for composers instead of symptoms of the works, rules which a composer has to obey, instead of peculiarities which are extracted from the works (182; in Schoenberg's <i>Style and Idea)</i></blockquote>"I picked the twelve-tone row at random. I mean, who's going to know the difference?" (1:02). Straus refers to this as the "myth of imperceptibility" (214-218). Straus (and many others) argue that recognizing the row is not the "point" of serial music: the row is simply a convenient method of organizing pitches--nothing else. Many of the most well-known rows are carefully constructed in order to manifest useful intervallic properties. Consider the row for Babbitt's <i>Composition for four instruments</i><blockquote><a title="By Hyacinth (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons" href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3ABabbitt_-_Composition_for_Four_Instruments_tone_row.png"><img width="512" alt="Babbitt - Composition for Four Instruments tone row" src="//upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/46/Babbitt_-_Composition_for_Four_Instruments_tone_row.png"/></a></blockquote>Each trichord (three-note group) of the row is an instance of set-class (014), and subsequent trichords are determined by applying a twelve-tone operator (transposition, retrograde, inversion, retrograde-inversion) to any one of the trichords. The hexachords are self-complementary: each is an instance of (012345). The row can be combined with other forms (T, I, R, RI) and will create aggregates trichordally (read down a column) and hexachordally (consider the first six notes on any two lines): <blockquote><img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/a/a9/Array_-_Babbitt%27s_Composition_for_Four_Instruments.png"></blockquote> This clearly is not random and was done with a clear purpose: while a listener (skilled or unskilled) might not be able to pick out row forms, the repetitive intervallic patterns are clearly perceptible. <p>"And let's pick another row to be the piano part" (1:05). This already violates her first "rule" of serialism: the piano part will likely duplicate a pitch found in the vocal part. Here are the two rows she chooses: <blockquote>Row 1 (melody): C A Eb Ab B C# A# D G Gb F E<br>Row 2 (piano): Ab A F A# B G D# D C C# Gb E </blockquote>Her two random rows (incidentally, the "chance" method of choosing a row has more in common with Cage and his ilk than it does Schoenberg, Stravinsky, et al.) have several coincidental pitches: A, B, D, and E. <p>"Let's try twelve-tone-izing something else" (4:30). Composers don't write melodies (or take preexisting melodies) and "twelve-tone-ize" them. Composers start with a melody or a row form and explore its potential. A row is not a melody; it is not a prescription for harmony or anything else. It is simply a way of accounting for pitch classes. <p>Twelve-tone music was not an effort to get away from an implied context: Schoenberg viewed serialism as a logical extension of the emancipated dissonance found in the music of his predecessors (i.e., Wagner). There are even twelve-tone passages in Mozart (if one wants to play such games: see the opening of the development in the last movement of symphony no. 40). The accompaniments that she adds to her "twelve-tone-ized" melodies place them squarely back in the tonal idiom, which, according to her, is what we were trying to avoid. Admittedly, it's a very late-19th-c. tonal idiom, but it's tonal nonetheless. Quite a lot of serial music has tonal underpinnings: Stravinsky and Copland's music for example. George Perle called his system "Twelve-tone tonality." Charles Wuorinen's <i>Twelve short pieces</i> accompany his <i>Simple Composition</i> textbook, which is a bit of a primer on serial composition. The first few pieces demonstrate a strong influence of tonality: diatonic thirds and sixths clearly suggest tonality. <p>It's also worth noting that serialism and twelve-tone are not synonymous. Serialism implies ordering of pitches (or dynamics, or durations), and can apply to six notes, ten notes, eleven notes, twenty-four notes, etc. <p>After about 20 minutes of her colorful drawings and rapid-fire ramblings, I gave up. So this post is in reality based only on a partial knowledge of Vi's work. I didn't bother to watch any of her other videos or to look up her biography. One could, I guess, accuse me of blogging about something I know very little about... Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17455491.post-88367374205428727782013-06-27T13:20:00.000-07:002013-06-27T13:20:25.122-07:00Rap class 2.0I'm teaching my rap class again this summer. It's probably the sixth or seventh time I've taught the course in two years. It was time to change things up: I was getting tired of presenting the same material in the same way, and I'm not convinced that it was getting through to the students as much as I would've liked. So I tried some new things, based on the work I did last year with my colleague at UW Bothell as well as the "flipped" classroom idea. I had so much that I wanted them to read, and I really wanted to shift the focus to the music and lyrics, rather than dealing in abstractions. <p>Here's what the assignment for today looked like:<br /><p><blockquote>Choose one of the following readings: <ul><li>Chang, ch. 1</li><li>Rose, ch. 6</li><li>Asante, "Interview with the ghetto" (click to download PDF)</li></ul>Choose one of the following songs [I provided links to YouTube videos and lyrics]: <ul><li>Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, "The Message" (lyrics)</li><li>MC Shan &amp; Marley Marl, "The Bridge" (lyrics)</li><li>Boogie Down Productions, "South Bronx" (lyrics)</li></ul><br>Once you've read the selection, familiarize yourself with the song. Listen to it several times, follow along with the lyrics and pay attention to the visuals in the video. <p>Consider the relationship between the reading and the song. What can you learn about the song from the reading and vice versa? Post a 250-word response to this question to the discussion board before Thursday's class. Be sure to mention the title of the reading that you did as well as the name of the song. </blockquote><p>The 250-word response before class encourages them to think about one text in terms of the other and ensures that they come to class prepared. I peeked in on Canvas (our LMS) before class to get a sense of who read/listened to what, and what kinds of things were on their minds. Most had read the Asante article and listened to "The Message," a few had done the other readings and listenings, but everything was covered. <p>At the beginning of class, I put them into groups based on the reading that they had done and gave them the following questions to discuss as a group: <ul><li>What is the main point of the reading? How would you summarize it for a friend?</li><li>How does this reading challenge your previously held assumptions?</li><li>What problems do you have with this reading? (or, what problems does this reading attempt to solve? What problems does it create?)</li><li>What are the implications of this reading for our understanding of rap music?</li></ul>After 20 minutes of group discussion, I had each group "report" to the class (I had an "order" to the readings in my mind). The students immediately began making connections among the readings, and drawing connections to the musical examples. <i>They</i> pretty much sustained the discussion for two and a half hours: I interjected a few comments (gaps left by the readings) and played a few short video clips. I would say about 60% of the class (25 students) was actively participating, and by and large the participation was at a reasonably high level. <p>I don't want to get my hopes up--it could be beginning-of-the-quarter enthusiasm--but this seems to be a great plan for a class like this. Michael Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10451453242779620184noreply@blogger.com0